


This Once and Always

by EtCorSolus



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Found Family, Getting Together, Good Parent Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Past Character Death, Sort Of, teacher eskel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:14:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29768457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EtCorSolus/pseuds/EtCorSolus
Summary: In which, Eskel meets Geralt, and they have almost certainly met before.Story title from an Atticus quote. "You are my fate, this once and always."
Relationships: Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	1. So my dear, will you keep me tonight?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Lover by Truslow.

Someone is staring at him. He can feel the weight of their eyes like a hand on the scruff of his neck. As he scans the bar though, he can't locate the source of the uncomfortable gaze so he tries to focus on his work. The place is crowded tonight, as it usually is on the weekends, and for a while he can lose himself in the rhythm of being behind the bar. He does manage to ignore whoever has deemed him interesting enough to watch for most of the night. It's late by the time the bar starts to empty, last call is in an hour when he finally gets the opportunity to stop for more than a spare moment.

“Esk!” Triss calls from the other end of the bar where she's been working. She tips her head towards the back entrance when he looks over and says, “Break time, big guy.”

He's relieved to have a moment, and a smoke, to himself in the back alley. He's all but forgotten the uncomfortable feeling of being watched until he takes another drag and it hits him all over again. His head snaps to the open end of the alley, and the man standing there. He's big and broad, not quite as big and broad as Eskel but that's not really surprising, and his hair shines white in the moonlight where it's pulled back into a loose tail, showing an undercut. His hands are shoved in his pockets, shoulders a little hunched, looking a little startled. Like he hadn't expected to run into anyone else back here, which is fair. Eskel is really the only one that comes out here for longer than it takes to toss garbage in the dumpster _._ Eskel is struck for a moment with a sense of familiarity, but it's gone almost as soon as it appears.

“Help you?” he calls to the stranger, and it must be the wrong thing to say because he turns his back and all but runs towards the parking lot. “Huh.”

Eskel is absolutely done with today. He goes back inside, helps Triss clear down on autopilot, walks her to her car, drives home. He showers with the water as hot as he can stand and is asleep before his head hits the pillow.

# # #

Eskel forgets about the odd encounter fairly quickly, it's honestly not the weirdest thing that he's witnessed working at the bar. It barely makes the top ten, so he puts it out of his mind. He works nights at the bar on the weekends; because it keeps him busy and it's where he worked while he was at school and, sue him, he's a little attached. During the week, however, he works at the local high school teaching English Literature. He often wonders why he thought attempting to get teenagers interested in, and he's quoting here, “dusty old books” would be something that he'd enjoy.

He _does_ actually like his job, most of the time, at least. He usually has at least a few students every year that remind him why he chose to teach. This year he has Cirilla. She's a new student, transferred in a few weeks back, and she argues her points like a professional. She's a deep thinker and utterly unashamed of her opinions, which is refreshing when so many teenagers either don't care or immediately agree with whatever he says in hopes that they're correct.

His last period of the day is a free period for him and he uses it to catch up on grading and adjust his lesson plans. He's grading the latest test he gave when a knock on his open classroom door draws his attention.

“Ciri, what can I do for you?”

“I just needed to find out what you have planned for class on Friday? I just turned in my note at the front office, I won't be here and my dad's a stickler about not missing assignments if I can help it,” she smiles and half shrugs.

“Oh, well your next summary paper is due Friday but you can turn it in Monday, if you need. I hadn't planned on a quiz or anything but I'll print off any notes we go over in class for you.”

“Thanks, Mr. Morhen, I'll see you tomorrow!” Eskel makes a note as she leaves to print the slides for Friday's class.

# # #

Parent-teacher conferences tend to give Eskel headaches for days. There's parents that don't bother to schedule one, there's parents that want to spend an hour talking about every assignment their student has, there's parents that insist their student should be getting better grades and get angry at _Eskel_ when they aren't. Eskel can already feel the headache coming on before he even walks into the building. The students, of course, have the day off and Eskel wishes he did too. Since he doesn't, he braces himself and goes to his classroom to prepare. His early morning conferences, thankfully, go quickly and without incident, but of course his conference after lunch takes longer than it should and puts him behind by half an hour for the rest of the day. His second to last conference starts twenty minutes late and the student in question has a tendency not to turn in their assignments, or otherwise contribute anything in class, and their mother doesn't seem to understand that if Eskel doesn't have anything to grade he has to give the student a zero which, in turn, is the reason her son is failing his class.

It takes every ounce of patience he has to talk her down and assure her that if her son is willingly to _do_ the extra credit essay Eskel offered him last week, he can still bring his grade up by the end of the year. When she finally leaves, Eskel drops his forehead onto his desk and tries very hard not to give in to the temptation to just bash his head against it. Someone clears their throat in the doorway and Eskel practically jumps to his feet, already tripping over an apology, but the words die in his throat when he sees who is standing at the threshold of his classroom. Eskel gets the same flash of familiarity he had that night in the alley a few weeks back and the hair on the back of his neck stands on end when he meets sapphire eyes. The man, a _Mr. Rivia_ if he remembers correctly, flushes a deep crimson when he apparently realizes who Eskel is. Eskel, who apparently has been around Lambert a little too long, can't help but tease. Just a little.

“Help you?” he asks with a little smirk and the man huffs a small laugh and an almost embarrassed smile.

“Uh... sorry about that. I, um, I don't really have a good explanation,” he shrugs as he delivers his words to the floor, a flush still high on his cheekbones.

“Don't worry about it, had to tease a bit. I'm Eskel Morhen. You're Cirilla's father?” Mr. Rivia comes closer and takes the seat Eskel has pulled up across his desk.

“Ciri,” he corrects, like a reflex and Eskel smiles a bit.

“Can never be sure if parents are okay with the nickname their kid gives me. She's a bright girl,” he says and catches the proud grin it puts on the other man's face. “I'll be honest, Mr. Rivia-”

“It's Geralt.”

“Geralt, then, I don't have much for you on Ciri. She's doing excellently, she's active in discussions and her assignments are well executed and thoughtful. She's been wonderful to have in class these last few months.”

“She's always liked reading and writing. Is there anything she needs to work on?”

“Well, there's always room for improvement. Actually, the school has an essay contest every year that I was going to mention to her, if she wins in the school she'll have the option to enter her paper in the regional and then national contest. It's not anything she'd have to do for my class but its the kind of thing that looks good on college applications.” They spend a bit longer going over the details of the contest and Geralt asks a few more questions about Ciri and thanks Eskel for his time. As he gets up to leave, Eskel's curiosity overwhelms him and he blurts out the question he's been swallowing since he saw Geralt in his doorway.

“Why were you watching me that night?” Geralt freezes, blushes again, and hunches in on himself. Eskel tilts his head with what he hopes is an encouraging smile when Geralt glances up at him.

“Um... you just... looked familiar. I couldn't shake the feeling that I knew you. Feel like an idiot now, I probably just saw you here when I picked Ciri up or something,” Geralt shrugs.

“It's fine, I just wondered.” They stand in a semi-awkward silence for a beat before Geralt excuses himself. “It was nice to meet you, Geralt.”

“You too... Eskel,” Geralt responds quietly and then retreats down the hall. Eskel is left wondering how on earth Ciri managed to become so outgoing when her father is clearly quite shy. Its... cute. And Eskel is a little bit screwed as he realizes he has a bit of a crush.

# # #

Eskel has a dream that night that is...strange. For a number of reasons. The first being that Eskel usually _doesn't_ dream; or at least if he does, he doesn't remember them. The second, and more concerning, reason is that his dream is about _Geralt._ Well... sort of, anyways. The third is that they both seem to be small children, which is... _strange._

_He sees the massive gate looming well before they reach it and he is frightened, even though he won't admit it. His mother told him, before the big man with yellow eyes took him away from her, that he had to be brave and so he would. The gate groans as it's wrenched open for them and they enter a large courtyard with some other men milling around._ Witchers _, he was told when he asked about the strange, cat-like pupils of their eyes. He's taken straight to the big doors of the keep where he comes face to face with a witcher with gray hair, a mustache, and a bit of a frown._

“ _Who's this, then?” he asks._

“ _Eskel, surprise child,” is the grunted response and then the witcher he's been traveling with walks on and the one before him places a hand on his shoulder when he makes to follow._

“ _Welcome to Kaer Morhen, Eskel. Do you kno-”_

“ _Who's this, Master Vesemir?” Eskel wasn't sure what he expected but it certainly isn't another boy his own age materializing at his side. He has dark hair, almost the same shade as Eskel's, the bluest eyes Eskel has ever seen, and freckles dotted across the bridge of his nose._

“ _Don't interrupt,” Vesemir scolded before turning back to Eskel. “Do you know why you're here, boy?” Eskel nods, he is to become a witcher. “This is Geralt, you'll be bunking with him. Geralt, show him the barracks and then take him to the dining hall, it's nearly supper. And_ don't _get any bright ideas, boy,_ I mean it. _”_

“ _You got a name?” the child, Geralt, asks as he grabs at Eskel's elbow and proceeds to drag him through the big doors._

“ _Eskel,” he answers quietly._

“ _Hm, well don't worry, Eskel. I'll help you out,” he informs him with a contagious grin. Eskel feels a little less afraid, looking at that smile._

Eskel wakes with the ghost of that grip on his elbow.

“What in the fuck?” he questions his room.


	2. Will you carry my heart?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Lover by Truslow.

Eskel takes comfort in the fact that he probably won't have to _see_ Geralt again anytime soon, at least not in a setting where he'll have an opportunity to put his foot in his mouth. Of course, he's proven wrong about that at the end of the week, when he walks out the back of the bar to catch a smoke and finds Geralt pacing the alleyway with tense shoulders and his eyes on the ground. He almost turns around and goes right back in, but Triss will question him and he's been having a night and he really needs a cigarette just now, so he sighs and lets the door fall shut to catch Geralt's attention. Geralt jumps like someone shot off a gun and when he does see Eskel, his eyes are blown wide with something like panic.

“Sorry, didn't mean to startle you.”

“It's fine, just, just fine. I was, um. I was going anyways.” Geralt turns to leave and before Eskel can really think much about what he's doing, he has a hand on Geralt's shoulder. The man goes rigid for a brief moment and then takes an audible breath and forces a small bit of the tension out.

“Sorry,” Eskel says again and drops his hand as he does. “You don't have to take off. You look a little... I don't know, stressed. You okay?” He gets a frustrated growl, quickly bitten off, in response. “Right, probably a stupid question, considering. You wanna talk? I'm a pretty decent listener.”

“Not good at talking,” Geralt mumbles but he walks over to the wall of the bar and puts it at his back and Eskel figures that's his cue to join him.

“You mind?” he asks as he fishes his pack out of his pocket and at Geralt's head shake, he lights one. “Something happen?”

“Just... I don't like all of... _that._ The noise and the people and-” he cuts himself off.

“What are you doing here then?” Eskel wonders.

“Jaskier.”

“What's a Jaskier?” Eskel questions and Geralt huffs a laugh.

“He's my friend. He talks me into this every couple of weeks. Says I need to make new friends or some shit,” he shrugs. “Don't know why I keeping letting him bring me to bars.”

“Hard to say no all the time, I get it. Got a friend like that, too.” Eskel takes another drag. They stand in a companionable silence for a few moments.

“Kind of jarring to see my daughter's English teacher smoking.” A sly smile. Eskel laughs, a little wry.

“Well, I wasn't exactly expecting to see a parent in the alley behind my weekend job. I don't do it often, just had a week on top of the night I'm already having. Gives me an excuse to come outside, at least.”

“Why are you working here on the weekends?”

“Keeps me busy,” a shrug, “I tend to do better with fewer idle hours. What do you do? Ciri's never mentioned your job.”

“Oh, uh... I work at the ranch out on the edge of town, mostly taking care of the horses but I do riding lessons and training, too. Pays the bills and they let me stable Roach for free.”

“Tell me you didn't name your horse after a _bug,_ ” Eskel teases and that cute little blush blooms on Geralt's cheekbones.

“Not the bug... the fish,” he mumbles and his cheeks get a shade darker at Eskel's laugh.

“That poor animal.”

“Do you ride?”

“Nope. Never really had an opportunity to learn, even though I'm partial to hoofed animals. Had a goat when I was teenager, until I let it in the house and it ate my mother's couch. Thought she was gonna kill us both, but she just gave it away and grounded me for about a year.” Geralt's smiling and it makes Eskel stomach flip to know he put it there.

“I could... Um, nevermind.”

“You could, what?”

“It's stupid.”

“Try me,” Eskel counters.

“I could, um... I could teach you. If you want. To ride.”

“Hm. Bet you could,” Eskel rumbles, admiring the crimson that rushes back at the comment and then turns to go back inside, stepping his cigarette out on the way. He calls over his shoulder when he gets to the door, “see you around, Geralt.”

# # #

Eskel doesn't really register that he hit on the parent of one of his students until he's laying in bed after work, about to go to sleep, and he curses under his breath. He has another dream.

_Eskel is in the trainees' barracks, pacing. Geralt should have been back by now, which means he probably got caught, which means he's in trouble, which means Eskel is probably in trouble, too. Eskel paces for close to an hour before Geralt limps in and flops face first on his beside Eskel's own. He groans into his pillow._

“ _What happened?”_

“ _Vesemir.”_

“ _Well, I figured as much. I meant why didn't they come in here to drag me to him, too?” Eskel questions. He hasn't been at the keep all that long and he remembers before he came here. If you were in on a prank, every took the punishment._

“ _Why would they? You didn't have anything to do with it.” Geralt peers at him with one cerulean eye and a set brow and Eskel's mouth drops open._

“ _But it was-”_

“ _My idea. I planned it. I did it by myself. I got caught. I'm serious, Eskel,” Geralt interrupts. Eskel is quiet for several minutes._

“ _Thank you,” he murmurs and Geralt turns his head to smile at him._

“ _Yeah. You owe me one.” And he gives Eskel a cheeky wink._

# # #

Eskel somehow manages to run into Geralt at least once a week for the remainder of the school year. It's not even always at the bar. He sees him in the parking lot at school a few times when Geralt is waiting for Ciri or dropping her off. He runs into him at the grocery store twice, the bar a few more times, and somehow they meet by chance at a park that Eskel decides to walk through because it's not far from his apartment and he's a little stir crazy on one of his few weekends off. Every time he sees Geralt, he has a dream about him.

The dreams are unsettling as they progress. With each one he feels more as if he knows the man he's meeting during the day, which is _insane_ because they're _dreams_ , for god's sake. More than that, he keeps slipping up when he does see Geralt and getting that little bit too familiar with him. Eskel is frustrated with himself and a little bit with Geralt, even though it's entirely not fair.

The only saving grace is that at least the dreams are tame, and make Eskel realize he has a much healthier imagination than he thought. Mostly stupid pranks and what seems to be weapons training, with actual swords, _what the hell._ They're tame. Up until they aren't.

“ _Eskel.” Eskel grunts in response. Geralt says nothing and so Eskel cracks open an eye to peer up at him from the bunk. Geralt is shirtless, his dark hair hanging long and loose, and a little gangly and he's smirking down at Eskel. He can't fight the smile, doesn't really want to, and opens his arms. Geralt falls on him immediately, taking his lips in an urgent kiss and Eskel lets it sweep him away._

When Eskel wakes up in the mornings after his dreams now, he can still hear Geralt's voice in his ear moaning his name and it's driving Eskel _mad._ What's worse, he can't _do_ anything about it. It would be entirely unethical to start dating a student's parent.

Eskel forces himself to focus on making his final and working at the bar and decidedly _does not_ recall the feel of Geralt's lips on his skin. _(He is not at all successful.)_

# # #

As it turns out, Eskel's imagination is a lot filthier than he gave himself credit for. The last week of school creeps closer and Eskel has never been so frustrated in his life. So he makes a perfectly _logical_ , _adult_ decision... He goes out of his way to avoid Geralt. He takes a few weekends off at the bar, claiming he just needs a break, and holes up in his apartment and grits his teeth against the claustrophobic feeling it leaves him with. He stays late at the school every day and arrives much earlier than he usually would and he goes to the store in the middle of the night and he's honestly worrying himself a little bit by the time he notices that this week is indeed the final week of school. But he hasn't had any more dreams, since he started avoiding the man, so he's going to count it as a win.

He doesn't really know what he plans to do, now that the end of the year is here. He isn't sure if he wants to forget about the whole thing or find out if Geralt's hair is as soft as he'd dreamt it was. He's gone almost a full three weeks without running into Geralt, and he's probably let his guard down a little because of it, when he wakes up late. He's been getting up with the sun for three weeks so the amount of light in his bedroom when he blinks open his eyes has him leaping out of bed. His bedside clock tells him he isn't late for school, just behind schedule to be the second person in the entire building. He's going to be arriving at the same time as the students, because _of course he is._ He rushes through his morning routine and out the door and hopes the whole way that he won't see Geralt.

So, _of course_ , he parks his mediocre sedan beside an SUV just as the man himself gets out the driver's side. Geralt grins and raises a hand as he opens the back door and passes a box to Ciri, who has just come around the back of the vehicle. Eskel takes a breath and tries to act like a normal person. Ciri is saying goodbye to her father as Eskel gets out of his car and she calls a cheery “see you in class!” as she takes off towards the building.

“She's gotta drop off her project for her final before her first class for the day. Haven't seen you in a few weeks, Jask drug me to the bar over the weekend and they said you were taking some time off,” says Geralt as Eskel comes to a stop at his side.

“Uh, yeah. Just needed some extra time to prep for finals, been coming in early to get everything ready.”

“Ciri's been cramming for days now but she thinks she's ready.”

“Yeah, she'll do great. I, uh, I better get inside,” Eskel says, feeling awkward, and Geralt gives him a small smile.

“See you around.” And then he's gone and Eskel tries to let go of the tension in his chest as he goes inside to begin the nightmare that is finals week.

# # #

After three weeks without any dreams, Eskel forgot how they felt. He's aware that he's dreaming but it doesn't stop the sensations and emotions from feeling _real._ Most of his dreams have been pleasant. A few he woke up from feeling the ghost of bruises from a spat but that's been the worst of them. Until it's not.

_Eskel is pacing._

_They made it through the Grasses. They lived. That was supposed to be it, but then the mages came for Geralt again. Eskel wasn't there, he doesn't know what reasons they gave him, if they even bothered explaining themselves. He came back up from the hot springs after sparring expecting Geralt to already be there to tease him about having a soak but their shared room is empty. Geralt doesn't show up to dinner and when Eskel corners Vesemir outside the main hall he simply says Geralt was selected for extra trials and walks on, seeming oblivious that he may as well have punched a hole in Eskel's chest._

_That was two weeks ago. Eskel has been hounding Vesemir every day, the same questions on repeat._

“ _Is he alive? When can I see him?_ Why _did you let them take him?” The first few days Vesemir wouldn't answer any of them. He started answering the first after a week and every murmured_ yes _made Eskel's knees weak. This afternoon when he badgered Vesemir after training before he went to the springs to wash off the day, Vesemir finally answered the second._

“ _He's alive, boy, be back in his usual quarters sometime this afternoon. He's got another week off training,” Vesemir told him, quick and concise, and Eskel sprinted to the springs and had the quickest wash he's ever managed before hurrying back up to their room. He's been pacing since then. Two hours on the same circuit around the little room before he finally hears the brush and rustle of footsteps coming down the corridor. Two people, one who must be Vesemir, Eskel is confident he could recognize that cadence in his sleep, and another who is clearly dragging their feet and stumbling along. Eskel yanks the door open, nearly off its hinges in his haste, and is met with Vesemir supporting a sickly looking Geralt with one gangly arm slung over his shoulders._

_Eskel jumps to Geralt's other side and helps Vesemir get him into his bed. Geralt is gasping like he's just run the Killer and Eskel would glare at Vesemir if he could manage to take his eyes off his best friend. Geralt's eyes are barely open, a little hazy, and seem more golden than they were two weeks ago._

“ _Make sure he rests. You have the next few days off training,” Vesemir orders quietly and then he's gone, the quiet click of the door following him out of the room._

“ _Esk?” Geralt's voice is a low rasp, like he swallowed gravel._

“ _I'm here. It's gonna be alright, Geralt,” Eskel whispers, remembering how loud everything was just after the Grasses. “You're gonna be fine.”_

_He presses his forehead to Geralt's and huffs when he nudges Eskel up for a kiss. Eskel finally breathes, the first time in a fortnight._

Eskel wakes in the middle of the night feeling the heat of Geralt's fever and the whisper of his lips. It takes him a while to get back to sleep. He sees Geralt again the next morning, and dreams of him again the next night.

_Geralt flops back and forth between sweating through his sheets and trembling like he's outside in a snow storm. Eskel runs laps between his bunk and the window with short breaks outside to empty the little bucket Geralt pukes in. Eskel doesn't notice for the first day, not until Geralt's fever finally breaks for good. The hair at his scalp is bone white. Eskel tries desperately not to alert Geralt to this but something is his scent must sour enough for him to notice because he asks Eskel what's wrong once a minute until he finally gets an answer._

“ _Your hair is growing in white,” Eskel mumbles and Geralt stills for a moment, his brow furrowing._

“ _'S just hair, Esk, why're you upset?” And Eskel knows the reason, but he really doesn't want to tell Geralt what it is. Doesn't want to sound weird and possessive and childlike and selfish and explain to Geralt that Eskel already had to give up Geralt's sapphire eyes and he didn't want to give up his chocolate locks, too. That he wanted to keep his friend as he was so he'd have at least one constant in his shit storm of a life. “Eskel. 'S just hair,” Geralt shrugs, a little half smile pulling up his lips on one side, “I'm not going anywhere.” And Eskel thanks the gods that Geralt seems to know without him having to say the words. Eskel drops his forehead to rest against Geralt's bare chest, pressed to his sternum, and closes his eyes and breathes in his scent._

“ _I worried...” he says, lips dragging against skin, voice barely a breath._

“ _I know.” A hand clasps at the scruff of his neck, fingers weaving through his hair. “I'll always come back to you.”_

_Geralt doesn't mention the scent of saltwater on the air._

Eskel wakes with misty eyes and tear tracks and spits a succinct ' _fuck'_ into the silence of his bedroom. He scrubs at his face and drags himself out of bed for the last day of the school year. He tries very hard not to think about what will happen over the summer. If he will see Geralt more or less often when he's only working at the bar a few days a week. If these dreams that keep plaguing him will stop. What they even _mean._ It's frustrating to have so many questions and no answers and, hard as Eskel tries, he can't stop thinking about the dreams and why he only has them when he sees Geralt, when he speaks to him. He can't stop thinking about the way his heart clenches up in his chest when Geralt smiles at him.


	3. Will you carry my scars?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Lover by Truslow.

School has been out for two weeks when Eskel next sees Geralt. Eskel is working the bar, lost in the rhythm of it, when he looks up to find that his next customer is the man himself. Eskel's brain short circuits for a moment at the wide smile Geralt graces him with.

“Hello Eskel,” he rumbles and Eskel _does not_ get chills at the sound of his name in that mouth. He smiles after a beat and tries to come up with an excuse to escape that won't make him sound like an ass when he hears Triss call down the bar.

“Eskel! Take a break, you're not a machine.” _Well, fuck._ Geralt nods his head towards the back door where he knows Eskel takes his breaks and Eskel resigns himself to the next several minutes trying to behave normally. Geralt doesn't say anything else until the door swings shut behind them, muffling the noise of the bar and plunging them into a sudden hush.

“I was hoping you'd be working tonight,” he says quietly and Eskel's heart kicks up in his chest.

“Yeah?” he rasps, hoping the dim light hides the flush on his cheeks.

“Yeah. I, uh, I wanted to talk to you... to tell you something. And I'm probably gonna sound like a bit of a creep when I do but I just... I didn't want to say anything until school was out, didn't want you to feel weird being Ciri's teacher and all. But well, school's out now and I was here last weekend but they said you hadn't started taking shifts again yet, and Jaskier swears I've lost my mind cause _I_ asked _him_ to come out two weekends in a row and I figured if I asked again he'd probably have a coronary and-”

“Geralt.” Eskel interrupts his nervous babbling and Geralt snaps his mouth shut. He looks a little sheepish and a lot nervous but he takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders a little bit.

“I have feelings... for you,” says Geralt, deflating just a bit at the end. “I know it sounds ridiculous because we really don't know each other that well, hardly at all, but I just-”

“Me too.” Wide eyed shock is a good look on Geralt, Eskel decides. “So... dinner?”

“Yeah... yeah, dinner sounds great.” Geralt's smile is like a sun rise, warm and bright and radiant.

# # #

Dinner goes well. It's the most time he's spent around Geralt, all at once and uninterrupted. They're talking about anything and everything from their favorite music to their childhoods, trying to fill in the large gaps in their knowledge of one another. Eskel has never shared with someone so easily and he gets the distinct feeling that Geralt doesn't usually speak so much. Eskel keeps waiting to screw it up and is honestly a little shocked when the second date goes just as well as the first. The quick, almost shy kiss, Geralt presses to his cheek before they part to their own vehicles at the end of the night makes Eskel heart race faster than it has any right to.

The next several weeks pass like that. Every couple days they spend a few hours, just the two of them, and they ping texts back and forth in the time between and Eskel has more dreams. The more time he spends with Geralt the more similarities he sees between the young man in his dreams and the man he sees during his waking hours.

The dreams remain fairly consistent, for a while. Time spent just the two of them in their shared room at the massive keep, training and some sort of trials they're going through, and then they change again rather abruptly. Go from routine to lonely in the span of a breath as the version of himself and Geralt set out on the task they've been training for.

_Geralt is curled into his side on the too small bunk. Eskel is searching for words to put around this, to make it okay, but he can't find any. He has the sinking feeling that it really_ won't _be okay but it's not as though they have much choice. They've completed their training, received their medallions and now the Path awaits them. Eskel isn't sure how he's supposed to function without Geralt within arms reach for months at a time. He is a little worried that it will literally kill him. Neither of them sleep, they don't really even try, but they do slip into meditation. The night goes faster than they want it to and in no time at all they find themselves walking out the front gates, twin swords strapped to their backs and a bag of supplies a piece on their shoulders. They take the trail together to the base of the mountain they've spent the last several years of their lives sequestered on. They make camp and spend one more night tangled together and in the morning when they've repacked and are ready to set out in different directions Geralt grips Eskel's bicep and presses their foreheads together._

“ _Eskel,” he says and the look in his eye is fierce, a little desperate, “come_ home. _You hear me?”_

“ _I will.”_

“ _Promise me. Swear it.”_

“ _I do. I swear,” Eskel whispers. Geralt smashes their mouths together and then he's stalking away. He doesn't look back, and Eskel knows why. He turns around and forces his feet to move for the same reason. If he looks back, he won't be able to let Geralt walk away._

Eskel wakes up at seven, his heart aches and he _misses_ Geralt fiercely, even though he just saw him yesterday. His phone is ringing before he even realizes he's picked it up and then Geralt's voice is coming over the line and Eskel feels like he can breathe.

“Eskel, is everything alright? You don't usually call so early,” Geralt says and Eskel tries to get his breathing under control before he answers but it must take him a little too long because Geralt says his name again, sounding concerned.

“Fine, fine, I'm fine, I just-” Eskel scrubs his hand down his face and takes a deliberate breath, slow and steady. “Don't tease me but I just- I had a shitty dream and I just wanted to hear your voice,” he says quietly and hears Geralt hum over the line.

“I won't tease,” he agrees. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, it's- it's stupid. I'm fine. Besides, I'm sure you're busy.”

“Never too busy for you.”

“Hm,” Eskel will the deny the dopey grin that puts on his face for the rest of his life, “I wouldn't mind seeing you today. Since you're not too busy for me, and all.”

“I can come by after work, should be done by three, if you like.”

“Yeah, that'd be great... I'll, uh, I'll see you later then?”

“I'll call when I leave the ranch,” Geralt agrees and ends the call.

# # #

Geralt and Eskel spend the majority of their free time together, mostly with Ciri as well, and before Eskel knows it the new school year is beginning. Eskel has mostly adjusted to the dreams and gathered a little stockpile of information that he pours over in the back of his mind. He's done a little research and found that he's either just got a rather far fetched imagination that is just now making an appearance or, and he's aware this sounds insane, his soul is reacting to it's mate by showing him pieces of their last life together. Eskel has the thought at least once a day, despite how hard he tries not to. From the few books he found on the subject he was able to learn quite a bit about the concept of soulmates. It's old, the books he found were written before the last Conjunction when monsters still shared their world. According to the books, it's not a bond that happens often but once it does the souls will seek each other out for eternity. It's said that these two people will be incredibly close, that they will remember their mate and _know_ them without really trying. The two souls are said to share a love that is timeless, boundless, and unflinching. Eskel isn't sure he believes in a love like that but in his dreams, he feels it. Unmeasured devotion, relentless and implacable as a storm.

Ciri is with her mother, Yennefer travels for work and whenever she's in town Ciri goes and stays with her, so Eskel is at Geralt's house for the night. They've spent several nights together by now, either here or at Eskel's place, so Eskel recognizes Geralt's fidgeting for the silent request it is and he nudges him up from where he's leaning against Eskel's chest and herds him back to the bedroom.

Eskel is still surprised by how easily they fit together. He's always liked sex and he always scoffed at people who claimed it was _so much better when feelings are involved_ , and it bugs him to be proven wrong because he's never had sex like this. Whether they take their time or tear clothes in their haste, Eskel has never felt so lost in another person's body, it's never been so incredibly easy. He lives for the little sigh Geralt makes when Eskel lines their bodies up to press him into the bed, for the playful growl when he sinks his teeth into the sharp line of a collarbone, the way Geralt says “ _Eskel,_ ” half frantic and desperate when he's about to come. He lives for the way Geralt melts against his chest with a contented hum before they go to sleep. He knows that Geralt will stay there all night, snugged up against Eskel, and in the morning when he wakes he'll flash a sleepy smile that will make Eskel's body feel warm and lazy.

He closes his eyes, presses a kiss to Geralt's temple. As he drifts off he feels the ghost of breath on his neck, would swear he hears a murmured ' _I love you,_ ' but he's asleep before he can be sure.

_He dreams of a girl he was supposed to care for, one he was supposed to protect and teach and nurture. He dreams of her coming to him an as adult, his child surprise is a beautiful young woman, and she is bitter and angry and she begs for his help. She reminds him of his responsibility to her, that he owes her protection now since he'd failed so grievously to protect her before, and Eskel knows she is right. He's ashamed of himself, of his fear that damaged the poor girl's life. When her brother arrives to kill her, Eskel stands with his brothers and Vesemir and they talk him down. It takes two days but an agreement is struck and Diedre is safe and all that needs to happen is a signature._

_The witch with Diedre's brother is not happy. Eskel isn't sure what she says, isn't really certain what happens in the moments leading up, but fighting breaks out. He hears Diedre's furious screaming and when he looks she's standing over her brother. Eskel closes the distance in two steps as she raises the blade in her hands._

“ _Diedre, don't,” he says as he reaches for her upraised hand. She startles at the brush of his fingers. She turns and lashes out and Eskel is in agony. He hits the ground and he knows he's_ howling _with the pain but he can't make it stop, can't parse through it to figure out how badly he's hurt. He can hear Geralt shouting his name a moment before he feels strong hands grip his shoulders-_

Eskel wrenches his eyes open to find cerulean blue orbs, wide with worry. He's breathing hard, his whole body tense and sore, and the covers have been thrown off the bed completely. Geralt is sitting astride his hips with a hand on his jaw and the other gripping his shoulder, he's got the little crease between his brows that shows up when he's concerned and he's talking to Eskel.

“Are you back with me, Esk? I need you to talk to me,” he's saying softly when Eskel can finally parse the words.

“I'm here,” he croaks and Geralt folds like his strings have been cut to press his forehead to Eskel's chest.

“You scared me,” he whispers into Eskel's skin, presses a kiss there before he sits up. “You started tossing and turning, kicked the covers down, and then you were screaming and thrashing. Must've been a hell of a nightmare,” he comments as Eskel tries to calm down, he manages a nod and Geralt gets up and brings Eskel a glass of water. He's sitting up on the end of the bed when Geralt comes back in and trying to stop his hands shaking. He runs his hand over the smooth skin of his face and tries to shake loose the ghost of pain that resonates there. Geralt slides his fingers into Eskel's palm, pulls his hand away and press his lips to Eskel's hairline, his temple, the crest of his cheek, beside his nose, the lightest brush again his upper lip. Eskel meets his eyes and he isn't really sure what he sees there, only that there is something like _knowing_ in Geralt's gaze, but Geralt is turning away before Eskel can read much more. He sets the cup Eskel has drained on the end table and prods Eskel back into bed, tosses the covers over him haphazardly and climbs in to snug back up against Eskel's chest.

“Sorry,” Eskel mumbles, and he's not sure if he's apologizing for the dream or waking Geralt up or what, exactly, only knows that he feels like he should.

“Don't,” Geralt whispers. “You're safe, try to get some more sleep.”

Eskel is asleep before he feels Geralt fingertips trail down his face, where the ghost of pain lingers. He doesn't feel how Geralt shifts in closer, holds him a little tighter.

_Eskel dreams of hiding away. He dreams of lashing out like a wounded animal, breaking the mirror he keeps in his room. He dreams of seeing Geralt's face crumple as Eskel slams the door to his room shut. He locks it, slides to the floor and listens to Geralt on the other side. He can hear the whisper of his breathing, hear the shuffling step forward, the rasp of his calloused hand on the wood._

_Geralt dreams of pressing his forehead to a slammed door. He dreams of whispering, “I love you,” to the pine every morning and every night for weeks. Until it finally opens one evening and Eskel falls into his arms. Geralt holds him every night, whispers his adoration into Eskel's skin. He spends the daylight hours training with Eskel, drawing him out of his shell with their brothers. His is reward comes in spring when he finally makes Eskel laugh again, the first in months._


	4. Will you carry my soul?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Lover by Truslow.

It's not until a few weeks later, while Eskel is reading through a copy of a _very_ old journal belonging to an ancient mage who supposedly researched and observed soulmates, that he realizes what he saw in Geralt's eyes that night. It's there in black and white before him and he can't believe he hadn't thought of it in the past several months. _'It has been observed that subjects possessing a true soul bond will often share moments from their previous encounters in dreams, the dreams appear to be shared between the two, often experienced by each individual in the same night's sleep. Subject matter tends towards time spent together and impactful events in each individual's life as well as the relationship between mates.'_

Eskel couldn't get the idea out of his head. He was so distracted during class that he had to set the students to reading because he could barely keep up with the discussion much less lead it. He paced his classroom during his free period and left earlier than his usual time. When his phone rang that evening, Geralt's soft smile lighting up the little screen, Eskel stared at it until the screen went dark again. Eskel was so caught up in his head that he forgot _why_ Geralt was calling him; Eskel forgot until a familiar knock sounded on his front door.

“I'll called to let you know I was on my way, left you a message,” Geralt says when he catches Eskel's surprised expression and Eskel nods as he shifts to let Geralt come in the house. “Are you alright?” A little crease appears in Geralt's brow, eyes searching Eskel's.

“Um, just didn't sleep all that well... Can we do a rain check tonight?” Eskel cringes and feels like an ass but he just can't be around Geralt while he tries to process the possibility that they're sharing dreams. Geralt tries to hide the hurt from Eskel, recovers quickly with a smile and a gentle kiss. “Sure, get some rest. Call me tomorrow?”

“I will,” Eskel agrees and after Geralt leaves and the door is locked Eskel makes himself eat something and then he goes to bed.

_Eskel had wandered into Lyria without really meaning to and then heard rumors of the White Wolf and had wandered towards Rivia on purpose. It's not until he's just outside town that he hears the shouting, feels his medallion vibrating at his chest. He leaps off his horse and runs until he reaches the square where it looks like most of the town is gathered and angry. Eskel watches the fight break out and as he tries to move through the crowd he catches sight of Geralt. He's got a hand on his blade but is still trying to talk down his assailant. The crowd gets more agitated though and Eskel is trying to get to Geralt through the crowd but he can't get there fast enough. He watches the man wielding a rusted old pitchfork move around to Geralt's blind spot, watches the man make a violent and decisive jab into Geralt's back. He sees the shock slacken Geralt's face, sees blood bubble over his lips. Eskel's heart freezes in his chest, he can't draw breath._

“ _Another fuckin' witcher! Get him!” People are shouting and Eskel doesn't realize it's at_ him _until Geralt collapses and Eskel loses sight of him in the press of people. Eskel traces the sign for Igni but before he can cast there's scream and a flash of emerald light where Geralt went down, the_ snap-crack _of magic in the air. Whatever was done pushes back the group that took Geralt down and as they are shoved away Eskel can see a pool of blood and a small circle of blackened ground, but no body._

He can't catch his breath, his hands are shaking, his vision swimming. He grabs for his phone, barely registers that it's three in the morning, and calls Geralt. Some small part of his mind knows it's irrational but the rest of him just _needs_ to hear his voice. Eskel heart skips at each tone and when the click of the automated message sounds he immediately ends the call and redials. Geralt answers, voice scratchy with sleep, “'Lo?”

“ _Geralt,_ ” Eskel chokes and it seems to startle Geralt awake.

“Eskel? You need to breathe,”

“S-sorry, I, I just, um,” Eskel gasps and stutters and Geralt shushes him gently.

“I need you to take a deep breath, Esk. Everything's alright, I'm okay and so are you. Just breathe,” Geralt murmurs. “I know you probably meant later this week for the rain check but... I can come now, if you want.” Eskel thanks whatever god is listening that Geralt seems to have some kind of intuition into what Eskel wants but will not ask for and mumbles a 'yes.'

Eskel is waiting on the couch, with his elbows on his knees and his eyes on the floor, when Geralt lets himself into the apartment. He doesn't say anything, just comes and sits beside him and reaches out, slow and gentle, to grasp Eskel's hand where it's trembling. Eskel opens his mouth twice but can't manage to get any words out. When he glances at Geralt, sees the way he's looking at him, he's more sure than ever that Geralt has been having the same dreams Eskel has.

“You never said,” he finally murmurs.

“No.” Eskel glances up again and huffs at the little smirk on Geralt's face.

“I thought I was... I don't know, fantasizing. I guess. For the first little while. Researched the dreams, some of the names I could remember and found some really old books that talked about, uh, well-”

“Soul mates,” Geralt says and Eskel snaps his head up to look at him. “My Mother was always interested in any kind of history from before the last Conjunction. She liked learning about the different creatures and the odd customs and beliefs and she used to tell me about all things she read. When she started looking into the stories about soulmates, my grandma told us about my grandfather. He died when my mother was little and she doesn't remember him. Grandma said they shared dreams, that she saw him the first time and felt in her gut that she knew him, that she always had. I thought it was incredible when I was little. A person that's just for you. I grew up and met Yen and no matter how much I loved her, we just didn't work and I stopped believing in it. Until that night you saw me out behind the bar.”

Geralt grows quiet and Eskel can't find his words. Can't quite believe that this is his life. He grunts in what he hopes Geralt will read as a gesture to continue, and bless the man, he does.

“I had seen you behind the bar and just... had this feeling. Every time I tried to focus on something else I wound up watching you again inside a few minutes. The bar was so crowded that night, I got anxious and I went outside to try to calm down and then I turned around and you stood there smirking at me. That's why I took off, I was already panicky and then you were just _there._ I hadn't forgotten about it but I had stopped thinking about it so much and then...”

“Parent conferences,” Eskel says and Geralt nods. “I had the first dream that night.”

“When we met as kids,” Geralt agrees.

“I felt so fucking weird. Dreaming about some guy I just met, a parent of one of my students.”

“I wasn't sure if you were having them too, at first.”

“At first?”

“The first time you called me early in the morning. You said you'd had a bad dream, that you wanted to hear my voice. I was pretty sure then because I'd already had my phone in my hand to call you for the same reason. Then... I almost came out and asked you that night a few weeks ago. I woke up before you did, just after she...” Geralt trails off and glances to the side.

“After Diedre slashed my face up,” Eskel mumbles. “I don't remember much after that either, just being in pain...”

“Tonight though. When I woke up and you called a few minutes later-” It must show on Eskel's face, the way his heart crumbles when he remembers the barren hopelessness of his earlier dream, because Geralt's arms are around him in the next moment and Eskel just breathes him in. “I'm right here.”

“I know,” Eskel whispers and winds his arms around Geralt's waist. “Soul mates, huh?” Geralt chuckles and breaks the last of the tension between them.

“Guess you're stuck with me,” he teases and Eskel nips at his neck in retribution but Geralt just laughs again and kisses him, soft and sweet.

A memory tickles at the edge of Eskel's mind, words half-heard in sleep that sounded suspiciously like... _Huh._

“I love you,” Eskel murmurs into Geralt's lips, he gets the shocked little gasp that he loves to hear. Another kiss, sweeter than the last.

“I love you, too.”

# # #

When Eskel's lease is up they move in together, before the new year turns. Ciri already had Eskel wrapped around her finger and when he moved in, it only became more pronounced. Eskel doesn't take shifts at the bar anymore, he works at the school and spends the summers at the ranch with Geralt. He does learn to ride and there are rides with Geralt, Eskel, and Ciri wandering the woods on the ranch's property.

Eskel proposes in the midst of one of these wandering rides. Ciri is with her mother but has been promised a phone call as soon as he gets his answer. Beams of sunlight break through the canopy of trees and the stream they stop by to let the horses drink is cool and clear and Eskel has a brief flash of a scene not unlike this one, from years before, when they were different men but the same souls. Geralt calls him a sap when he gets down on one knee, but his eyes are wet and he says yes so Eskel's pretty sure that makes _him_ the sap. He graciously _doesn't_ point that out.

The wedding is a small gathering in the fall. Geralt and Eskel wear suits and Ciri wears a flowing lavender dress that makes her look like a faerie princess. The dream they share that night is full of southern sun and walks in a garden and a soft bed in a villa they share.

When Eskel thinks on his life and how it's turned out, he is always in awe of his luck. Not only did he have a soulmate but he was lucky enough to find him, _twice._ He'd never been a big believer in the gods or destiny but now he finds himself hoping that whatever force blessed him with Geralt will see fit to continue to do so; _but then,_ he thinks, _there isn't a world where I won't find him._


End file.
